Into the Attic
by Hanna Loves Llamas
Summary: A Carby fic I finished about a month ago. Actually, must have been more than a month... Anyway! You should read it! I don't even have to say that it's got a lame name, but give it a chance! ;) ~Hanna


"Are you sure you don't mind about this, Carter?" Abby yanked a suitcase from the back of Carter's silver BMW and set it on the pavement beside them. 

"I'm positive, Abby, for the millionth time!"  Carter did the same and hefted out the last grey suitcase before slamming the trunk shut.

"Well."  Abby frowned, squinting.  "You've sure got enough room."

Carter laughed.  "That we do," he agreed.  "All right, let's go.  I'll show you to your room."

They gathered Abby's things and entered the huge doors.  Coming into a grand entryway, Carter led her up a majestic staircase.

Abby was dumbfounded.  When Carter had offered her a place to stay, she thought she'd remembered how much of a palace the Carters' mansion was.  Seeing it again proved her wrong – somehow there was a renewed sense of glamour and ritz floating around.  Even the air felt expensive.

"Carter," she groaned, "if I have to carry these suitcases much farther, I think my hands will fall off."

He laughed.  "Don't worry, we're almost there," he replied.

She breathed a sigh of relief as he stopped at a big oak doorway.  "Here we are," he announced, pushing open the door.

"Holy shit."  Her jaw dropped at the sight of the "guest room" – the huge, four-poster mahogany bed, draped with luscious cotton and satin bedding, appeared to have cost as much as a year's rent in her apartment.  Inside, another door revealed a beautifully tiled bathroom and an elegant, glass-encased shower area.

"Is this all right?" Carter asked her.

Abby turned to face him, eyebrows raised.  "I think I'll be fine," she said dryly.  She could feel the cushiness of the pale blue carpet through her shoes.

Carter smiled.  "Just making sure," he said, dragging Abby's bags in from the hall.

"I want to thank you again for doing this for me," Abby said, lifting the first suitcase onto the bed to unpack it.  "I promise I'll find a new place soon."  She swore under her breath as she accidentally knocked a pile of clothes out of the suitcase and onto the floor.

Carter bent to pick them up for her.  "I hope you won't feel rushed," he told her.  "Take your time.  Really."  Picking up another handful of clothes, he felt his throat tighten.  In his right hand dangled Abby's black bra;  he didn't have to look twice to know it was the one he'd seen the night of the museum benefit they'd gone to.

"Um…" Carter stammered.  "Uh…  Um…"  Abby looked over at him curiously.

_Embarrassed! she thought, laughing.  "Thanks," she said, taking the clothes from his hands._

Still fazed, Carter stood to leave.  "If you need anything, just yell," he managed.  "I'm right across the hall."

"Thanks, Carter.  Really."

"It's no problem.  I'll see you in the morning.  Have a good night, Abby."

"You too," she called after him as he left.

When her clothes were packed into the big amoir, her teeth were brushed, and she was in her PJ pants, she lifted herself into the big, comfy bed.

She felt oddly comfortable, lying in that huge bed in the immaculate guest room in the stately Carter mansion.  When Carter had put out the offer a second time about staying with him, Abby had jumped at the chance.  After a few nights with Luka, she'd realized that she'd had enough of him for a lifetime, thankyouverymuch.  So after work that day, they'd picked up her bags and he'd driven her over to the Carters'.

She'd surprised herself that day at work when Chuni's knowing looks made her blush.  Did she have feelings for him?  She felt like she was in high school again, doing the "now I like him, now I don't" dance, this time being different because it wasn't entertaining any more.  She wished it could just be clearcut and she could decide how she was feeling and what to do about it.  Sighing, Abby turned over in the bed.  _It doesn't matter anyway, she thought.  __He doesn't feel the same about me anyway._

Across the hall, Carter was still fazed.  He couldn't believe he'd seen the bra again.  Sure, he'd thought about it an awful lot, and maybe hoped that he'd get to see it again, but it was still a huge shock.

Stepping into his bathroom, he splashed his face with water and picked up his toothbrush.  Looking in the mirror above the sink brought up the memory of seeing Abby in the mirror that night, and he shook his head furiously.

When Abby had accepted his offer earlier that day, he'd been pleasantly surprised.  Not being as close to her as usual, and even feeling a little awkward around her, Carter was glad to be able to help her in some way.  So what's more logical than this?  A place to stay – helping her; and how could you be closer than living in the same house?  Ingenious.  Or was it?

He just didn't want to screw up their friendship any more than it already was.  His feelings for Abby were still there, as always, a dull sharp ache that intensified only when he let it.

_Oh well, he thought, pulling the covers up to his chin.  __We'll see._

Abby awoke the next morning, a Saturday, to the rich scent of mocha.  Confused, she sat up and groggily looked around.  On the bedside table next to her sat a big cup of coffee.  It was just the right color, had just the right amount of milk as she liked.  Knowing it had been Carter, she smiled and picked up the mug.

A note scrawled on heavy paper in a thick black ink lay under the mug.  Abby picked it up.

_"Hope you had a good night's sleep," it read.  __"I'll be in the kitchen when you wake up.  –JC"_

Abby put her feet into slippers and scuffed out of the room blindly, taking occasional sips of the coffee clutched in her hand.  Somehow finding her way to the kitchen, she approached to see Carter facing the other direction, flipping pancakes on the stove.

Abby cleared her throat.  "Don't you have a personal chef for that?" she asked loudly, delighted to see him jump.

"Jesus, Abby, you scared me!" he said, turning around.

"Good morning," she replied.

"Good morning to you, too.  Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thanks.  And thanks for the coffee."

"No problem.  You hungry?"  She watched him flip the pancakes.  "I made these just for you!" he joked.

How could she decline an offer of good food from a handsome man in his pajamas?  "Sure," she agreed.

"Good.  Here you are," he said grandly, handing her a steaming plate of pancakes.  He gestured to a couple of barstools along a marble countertop, and they both sat down with their breakfast.  

"Tell me when," he said, pouring syrup on Abby's pancakes.  She waited until they were properly drenched before calling the syrup-slathering to a halt.  Despite the fact that 10 AM was too early to eat, and despite the fact that she rarely _had breakfast in the first place, Abby found herself with somewhat of an appetite._

After taking a bite, Abby was astounded.  "These are great, Carter," she praised.

"Thanks," he replied, beaming.  "So.  Did you really sleep okay?"

"I definitely did," she assured him between bites.  "Do you have to work today?"

"Nope, actually I don't."  He grinned.  "I've got the whole weekend off."

Abby fake-gasped.  "Amazing!" she announced.

"Isn't it though?"  Carter's heart warmed.  It felt just like it used to between them, and he was so glad for it.  "What about you?"

"I have to," Abby lamented, making a face.  "From two to nine."

"Eh, not too bad," Carter reasoned.

"I know," Abby shrugged.  "It'll be over quickly.  I hope."

Driving home from work, Abby could barely see anything.  The rain poured down in buckets, sloshing against the car's windshield and blinding Abby in the process.  Carter had lent her his car to bring to work, so she was especially edgy. 

Inching her way back to Carter's, she arrived at 9:45 and tiptoed through the big doors.  She slipped off her muddy shoes and found her way back to her room quietly.  When the door finally shut behind her, she let out a sigh.  Work had been more stressful than she'd expected that day, and she was tired.  It was bliss to slip on pajama pants, and, exhaustedly, she collapsed onto the bed.

Something crinkled under her head.  Turning over onto her belly, her heart leaped to see another note from Carter, written with the same thick pen on the same heavy paper.

_"Good evening, fair lady," it read.  __"I hope you enjoyed your day at our place of employment and I eagerly await your return to this humble residential establishment."  Abby laughed and read on.  __"I fear, though, that perhaps I will be sleeping when you arrive back, for my long, hard day of reading, watching TV, and basically wasting the time away has greatly tired me.  If you are, in fact, reading this, and I have not yet come out to greet you, then it is quite probable that I am sleeping at the very same time you are reading this letter.  If my lady has some burning desire to see me, then I would be quite happy to see her beautiful self if she so desires to wake me up.  Again, good night, and have a pleasant sleep.  Yours truly, Jonathan Truman Carter, III"_

Abby couldn't wipe the grin off her face.  Reluctantly, she opted not to wake him, and she settled down under the comforter.  The steady rhythm of the heavy rainfall produced a soothing effect, and Abby was just nodding off when the first clap of thunder sounded.

Startled and suddenly wide awake, she sat up in bed.  After a long, multi-branched lightening rod shot across the sky, her heart started beating faster and she pulled her knees to her chest.

Thunder and lightening were not some of Abby's favorite things, to say the least.  For some reason, they had always disconcerted her.  Normally she wasn't too bothered, just a little uneasy, but a combination of fatigue, unfamiliar surroundings, and loneliness made her much jumpier than usual.

The next loud clap of thunder had Abby leaping to her feet and pushing open her bedroom door.  Quickly but quietly, she shot across the hall and yanked at Carter's doorknob, praying it would be unlocked.  Relieved, she slipped inside and took a running leap into Carter's bed.

Carter immediately awoke.  "Huh?  Wha?" he garbled, rubbing his eyes.

"It's just me, Carter," Abby whispered nervously.

"What?"  Carter sat up, startled and wide awake.  "Abby?"

"Yes!" she whispered back.

He saw the fear and hesitation in her eyes.  "Are you okay?" he asked seriously.

"It's just – " Another loud clap of thunder exploded, and the room illuminated with a purple glow as lightening cracked the sky.  Abby let out a small shriek and pulled some of Carter's blankets over herself.

"Abby!"  His touch on her arms was gentle.  "It's okay, Abby, really."  His heart ached for her as he felt her trembling and he folded her into his arms.

She soon relaxed, and they both fell into a deep sleep, chest to chest, embraced.

The next morning, the sun shone trough the window and Abby awoke first.  At first, she was confused at her surroundings, but was comforted when she remembered that she was in Carter's bed.  She could feel his arm around her and she sunk back down, closing her eyes.

Surprisingly, it didn't feel strange lying there in his bed, with is arm gently resting across her back.  She felt extremely comfortable, relaxed, and wonderful – this, from a woman who could rarely say that she was "okay" in the morning.

Abby felt Carter beginning to stir, and she turned to face him.

A smile grew on his lips as he saw that she was still there next to him.  "Good morning," he said softly.  He took his hand from around Abby and brushed a lock of hair out of her face.

"Morning," she replied, taking his hands in both of hers.  "Thanks for last night, John," she said seriously, looking straight into his brown eyes.

"It's no problem," he replied, just as intensely, running his fingers gently over her soft hands.

She looked away bashfully.  "I," she began unsurely, "I don't usually get like that.  Like I was last night, I mean.  I just…"

"It's okay," he said comfortingly, and she looked back at him, relieved.  "You don't have to explain anything."  He smiled, and she smiled back contentedly.

Later that morning, the rain had started again, and by early afternoon, it drummed a steady, heavy beat against the roof and walls.

Up in the mansion's massive attic, the sound was even more resonant.  Carter had brought Abby up the three staircases it required to get to the attic in order to search for a video;  Entering the room, Abby saw  that a thorough search could take days to complete.

The huge room span out over almost the whole top floor of the mansion.  It was a stark contrast to the rest of the house, with unfinished walls and an old, musty smell.  It looked like it was straight out of a movie, littered with cardboard boxes, an old dressmaker's mannequin, a rack holding a bunch of dresses, even an old phonograph.

"This place is amazing," Abby observed.

"You think?" Carter inquired, pulling his head out of a box.  "Gamma never throws anything out.  Some of this stuff's gotta be, oh –" he paused, thinking – "more than a hundred years old."  He leaned back into the box.

"Jeez," she responded, watching Carter rummage through the huge box of movies.  "Can I help you look?" she asked him.

He waved her away.  "No, no, I'm fine."  His voice was muffled through cardboard.

Abby shrugged and wandered over to the rack of dresses.  Several were yellowed with age, but a few were in good condition.  Carefully looking at each, one of them caught her eye – it was light pink silk, with a long skirt and intricate beading on the bodice.  She normally wasn't a big fan of pink by any means, but the dress was gorgeous.

She lifted it off the hanger carefully and made sure that Carter was still occupied with the movie search.  She quickly threw her shirt, bra, and pants over the back of a chair and slid herself into the strapless gown.

It fit her almost perfectly, she noticed, glancing into an old cloudy mirror.  Amused, she swished over to the phonograph and put a record on.  She positioned the needle over it and the slow, soft melody cut into the silence of the attic suddenly.  Carter looked up, surprised.

He did a double take when he saw Abby standing there in the gown.  She stood, hands on her hips, in a model's pose, with her head tilted to one side and her chin up.  Laughing, she spun around.  "How do I look?" she joked.

He stood up, not able to take his eyes off her.

"You're making me nervous!" she exclaimed, running her fingers through her hair defensively.  "What is it?"

He shook his head.  "Nothing."  She looked amazing, but he didn't feel like it was the right time to talk about anything serious, like the way he felt about her. 

Abby held out her hand.  "A dance, good sir?" she asked with fake seriousness.

Carter pretended that he was playing around too.  "I'd love that, m'lady," he concurred.  He took her outstretched hand and brought it to his lips with a soft kiss, making Abby inadvertently lose her cool for a quick moment.

He took her tingling hand in his, and he placed his other hand on the small of her back.  She raised her arm to his shoulder and they began to sway slowly to the music.  At first, Abby was moving exaggeratedly, but soon she stopped and moved closer, starting to gradually lean into him more, unconsciously.

Several minutes later, the music stopped.  By then the pair were chest to chest, cheek to cheek, and they'd both been silent, lost in the intensity of their touch.  It was a great undertaking to attempt to separate; it took all of Carter's energy to pull himself away from Abby.

When he did, she looked up into his eyes with an intense, tender-hearted gaze.  He looked back into her eyes and the moment seemed perfect.  He tipped up her chin with a finger and they shared a long, slow kiss.


End file.
